


Crushed Under Kindness

by Tea_is_Not_Them



Series: Avatar Jon (AKA: Other Entities snag the Archivist) [3]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Buried Avatar Jon, Fluff, Hugs for the Archivist, Jon takes a few days to be crushed by the earth, Light Angst, M/M, Martin is PINING, Pining, Sinkhole, The coffin, Touch-Starved Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, light injury, lots of hugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_is_Not_Them/pseuds/Tea_is_Not_Them
Summary: Jon falls into a sinkhole before going to work. Somehow he lives, but everything changes. He's always liked weighted blankets and being crushed is almost the same.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: Avatar Jon (AKA: Other Entities snag the Archivist) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818751
Comments: 52
Kudos: 464





	Crushed Under Kindness

**Author's Note:**

> I continue on my quest to make Jon the avatar of increasingly strange fear entities but make it loveing and whole some
> 
> Here are my socials if you have an idea or suggestion or even you just want to cyberbully me :D
> 
> Insta: tea_is_not_them  
> Tumblr: tea-is-not-them  
> Tiktok: teaisnotthem

Being in charge of a department he had no experience in was stressful. He always felt like he was being stretched out of his limit. Honestly everything felt like it was too much, too fast, just too many things happening that he couldn’t control. It made him snappish and rude and he felt so angry at himself for being mean even to Martin, who to be fair was incompetent.

He went home to his flat overwhelmed and overstimulated. It was hell. He buried himself in the pile of blankets, the heat of his own breath comforting him as the pressure relieved some of his stress. He stayed that way until his breath evened out and he slipped unconscious exhausted. 

\-----

The morning was normal at first, he walked out of his flat, walked his normal way to the tube drinking terrible coffee. Then the earth shook and opened up. A sinkhole in the middle of the city was concerning. More concerning to Jon was that he was in the middle of it when it happened, the drop could have killed him, but instead he stayed at the bottom of the hole, crushed under something heavy and unmovable.

It was horrifying, scarring, probably the most terrifying thing in the world. And yet, the pressure was better than being trapped without. He couldn't move, his chest limited to short breaths, almost enough to cut off his airways. At first he struggled, but then he made the morbid connection between the mound of blankets he slept under. He chuckled, coughed and choked, and allowed the lightheadedness to take him.

Jon didn’t think he would wake up after this. Yet somehow he did, still crushed under the earth, still struggling to breath, he lived and stayed lucid. 

He felt heavier somehow, like he was made of rocks.

There was nothing to occupy him down there, boredom overtaking fear. He was terrified, but Jon was fairly sure he would die there in the earth. Not many lived through a sinkhole.

It reminded him of a statement by a man who said that he was buried alive for days, but only lived because someone got him out. There was nothing supernatural about the story to him, but it fit well, Jon supposed. 

The crushed parts of his phone and keys were stabbing him through his pockets, and he thinks his thighs are getting numb. His glasses are gone and he thinks he can feel a cut or three on his cheeks from where the lenses broke and sliced him. He flexes his fingers and finds his right hand is struggling to do much of anything. His head is swimming again and he's delirious.

He coughs again, not really thinking as he starts to talk out loud.

“I just need to get to work. Get off me.” He coughs and goes unconscious again, his right arm starting to feel like air.

\----------

He wakes up to not be covered. Jon shoots up and looks around and finds he is still in the sinkhole. The large chunk of building that was on his was standing up tall and straight against a rock. Confusion laced his whole body.

He was confused as to how it had gotten like that. He was confused as to why he slightly missed the feeling of crushing. He felt weightless compared to the hundreds of pounds that was once laying across his body.

Still the feeling was slowly returning to his limbs. 

“What happened while I was unconscious?” There was only silence and the distant falling of rocks. Was there a way to get out of this place? His body ached. Jon took stock of himself. He was alive, he had feelings in all limbs. He did have a terrible cut on his thigh from the sharpness of his now crushed phone. His cheek fared little better, he could feel dried blood.

“Just let me out.” He murmured more to himself more than the hold in which he was trapped. With a blink he squinted to see the wall had moved. Was there always foot holds? Should he even trust the footholds? What if he fell? 

There was no other real choice was there? It was either to risk his neck on the seemingly supernatural footholds, or stay down there alone and wait for help when there probably won't be. No one looks in sinkholes after- wait how long had he been stuck.

God he felt so stupid. 

\-------

Someone saw him crawling out of the earth, bleeding a little but mostly fine. Jon was lightheaded and felt like it was too much. The air was fresh but for some reason he hated it. An irrational part of him wanted to drop back down and let the earth engulf him whole. There were reporters still there so he must not have been down too long. 

There were people staring at him, he noticed. He must look a sight, rumpled academia clothes and blood and dirt. He squinted trying to see anything but cameras and the vague outline of people, but his backup glasses were still at home. 

Cameras were turned to him and he ducked away, feeling very uncomfortable with being on the news. Someone was trying to talk to him but he was starting to feel overwhelmed.

Jon finally decided to leave, taking his chances with the injuries at home over being bombarded. 

\--------

When Jon went into work the next day, he was swarmed by three assistants. Sasha had the article about the sinkhole pulled up, asking if he had been caught up in it. He pulled the jacket closer to his chest, the thick fabric giving him some comfort. He had a bandage over the cuts on his cheek and everything. He was fine and he told them so.

Reluctantly they went back to work.

Jon’s office felt too big to him. Usually everything felt too big, with him being short and scrawny, but it felt like he was swimming in the space. Everything felt too large, too much.

He sat under his desk for the rest of the day, the close space somehow making it more bearable, it wasn’t like it hurt his work. He could see just fine even if it was a bit dark, and he could read just fine. 

Martin came into his office and left very confused when he couldn’t see Jon. This was a bit funny to the man, and he chuckled just slightly. Martin still left the statements and mug of tea on his desk.

\--------

There was a cabinet in document storage that Jon had somehow fallen asleep in. He was going to have a nap on the cot there, but somehow he had just ended up in the small cabinet. It was nice though, he woke up feeling calmer than he had in years. The cramped space somehow didn’t make his joints hurt, even as he curled. 

It had become a safe spot in the archives. Away from everything that was too much or too big. It was where he went when he felt like Elias was asking too much of him, when he broke an ink pen by chewing it. It's where he went when it got way too loud outside his office. His assistants were very loud, Tim especially. They were all ok enough but still it was a lot for him.

The next time he went there he noticed someone had put files in there. For some reason he was not going to let that fly, so he filed the statements elsewhere, putting them in the system better. It was better than being in that single cabinet. 

He was in the cabinet when someone opened it. It was late and he thought no one else was there, so he tried to look as professional as he could while close to tears and stressed out of his mind. It turned out to be Martin.

“Jon?! What are you doing in there?”

Jon takes a breath about to say something scathing but he stops himself, “I-”

“Are you crying?” He sounds a bit unsure and Jon huffs.

“Yes. I was trying not to.”

Martin looks thoughtful and a bit worried, “Would… Would you like to talk about it?”

Jon huffs, “I’ve never been one to talk about my emotions. I thought everyone could tell.” It was a bit of a terrible joke, and he almost thinks Martin didn’t take it that way before the other just hums.

“Would you like some tea? Or a hug?” Jon extracts himself from his safety cabinet. Martin looks like he is about to take back his offer and Jon decides, what the hell?

“Uh. Sure.” He awkwardly holds his arms out, feeling very very uncomfortable. Martin looks taken aback but also opens his arms and hugs Jon.

It was the best hug he had ever received. He might be playing it up a bit but no, this was very nice. He found himself relaxing slightly. Martin held tight, almost crushing and he sighed. His face was a bit squished into his shoulder, Jon being shorter. It was wonderful.

Then it ended and he went back to being a little awkward, “Uh. Thank you. That was… Nice.” He gave a smile that must have looked a big strange. Martin gave him a real smile back.

“Tea?”

Jon hummed, “Sure.”

\--------

Jon found that being around his assistants wasn’t actually the worst. Martin was a bit bad at his job but he made up for it in enthusiasm. Tim was fun, even if he was only fun in smaller doses due to Jon’s sensitivities. Sasha was a ray of sunshine, and had a similar sense of humor. He found that he enjoyed being around them more.

Martin also gave him hugs now. Which was pleasant. Jon still felt a bit strange about it being unprofessional, but it was worth being a bit more friendly.

They invited him for drinks, and while usually he would say absolutely not. This might be a different answer. 

=-----

“Have you noticed something going on with Jon lately?” Tim asked. He looked a bit troubled.

Sasha hummed, “Yeah? I thought it was after the sinkhole thing.”

Martin’s face scrunched in concentration, “What?”

Sasha looked at both of the boys as if they had grown another head, “The sinkhole that he was the sole survivor of? A couple weeks ago? Remember when he was missing from work for three days and then showed up like nothing was wrong?”

Tim blinked and then leaned forward, “Receipts Sash.”

Sasha groaned and pulled up an article on her computer. The main photo was of a familiar man, hair rustled, clothes dirty and wrinkled. He had a few bruises on exposed skin, and blood on his trousers and cheek. The headline said he was the only survivor of the freak accident. He climbed out himself, without any help. Then he dashed and disappeared. 

“Oh.”

“That’s probably what's up, he went through a traumatic event.” Sasha closed out of the tab. 

Jon’s office door opened and he was decked again in head to toe heavy clothes. It was frankly absurd how many clothes he wore now, as if he was trying to drown himself. He did look like he was comfortable though. Jon saw them and waved a little. He had changed a lot after that incident, but he was being a little kinder and less of a hovering jerk.

He was actually kind of a good friend.

\---------

The statement giver was aggressive looking. Jon was almost concerned to be in a room alone with him, because this man towered over him at what must have been 6’3 and he looked like he would step on Jon like a can that needed to be crushed. Still he had the guy sit down and give his statement.

It was about a man who tried to sell him pens made of human ribs. He said that the man tried to take his as well, but that he had gotten away. There were some weird turns in the statement, but largely Jon felt to discredit it.

“We can get in touch if we find anything about it.” Jon said, standing up as if to show the man out of the door. 

The man stood up angrily, “You can’t do anything?! Explain it to me!”

Jon froze, “I don’t think I know anything about your experience-”

“Bullshit! Why does anyone come here if you won't tell them anything! What do you know!?” The man advanced on Jon, and he felt a bit threatened. He took a step back, his fingers metaphorically crossed that his assistants would get security when they heard the guy screaming.

Jon clenched his fist just to let go of the tense energy, “I cannot help you. I don't know!” He really shouldn’t yell at visibly aggressive people, it really was a character flaw. Still he had a temper.

The man got closer, cornering Jon against a bookshelf. He desperately wanted the earth to swallow him whole again, to keep him in an embrace. 

“You can’t do shit!?” He slammed a hand on the bookshelf a few file folders falling to the ground from the force. Jon felt like he was shaking. He must have been.

He was about to yell for his assistants and the man was about to get in his face again and finally he just snapped, “Back! Off!”

Jon watched in horror as the man’s eyes got large and his hands came up to claw at his throat. The man gasped for air, unable to get anything in as if he was being choked. Jon stayed pressed against the bookshelf, seeing his assistants in the doorway looking halfway terrified. 

He didn’t know what to do. The man was choking, gasping and clawing at his throat and chest. He had backed away from Jon, but still. The man looked at Jon as if he had seen a terrifying monster. The look gave Jon a mixed sense of terrible smug glee and terror, because he had not done this had he?

What did he do? How did this happen?

The man gasped out, “I-’m sor-” He coughed, “sorry.”

Then as soon as it happened, the man stopped struggling to breath. He looked at Jon, his eyes glassy and terrified and he fled the room. They heard him slam the door of the archives. 

What happened? Jon felt so many things and he had barely dodged an angry man who looked very much like he was going to beat him. It was a lot and he felt like everything was too big again. 

Martin was next to him and Jon looked at him, about to cry. Martin just hugged him and Jon relaxed into the hug and cried.

Tim and Sasha watched from the doorway confused. 

\-------------

Tim and Sasha had started hugging him as well.

Jon huffed in the breakroom. It was much too loud, even though nothing was happening. He felt too light, like he would fly away at any second. It was for the fifth time that day that he wished he stayed in that sinkhole. His head hurt, as it was wont to do after trying to power through too many statements. 

“Boss!” He winced. Tim had entered to have his lunch break. Jon was trying to eat food he had cooked three nights ago but it tasted like nothing. He could really use some water, or tea. 

“Yes Tim?” His irritation must have shown.

Tim got a little quieter, “You ok?”

Jon sighed, “Yes. Uh. Also good job on the statement today.”

Surprise went across the other's face and he grinned, “No problem boss.”

Then he felt arms around him. Jon froze confused as to why Tim was hugging him, years of emotional unavailability trained him that most touch is unwelcome. Then he relaxed. Tim hugged like you would expect, almost crushing from all the time he spent outside doing exercise. Jon hummed, letting himself untease completely. While he didn’t feel buried it was a close second to Martin’s hugs, and the crushing weight of earth. This was nice.

When Tim stopped he looked a bit worried, but he hid it behind a teasing, “You must like hugs Boss?”

Jon flushed a bit and was about to bite out something to regain his dignity before Tim held up his hands in mock surrender, “Nothing wrong with it boss! Just good to know.”

With this Jon let himself calm again, “.. Yes I rather suppose hugs are nice. Don’t be too unprofessional about it.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Too late, were all hug buddies.” He winked and Jon scoffed, but there was amusement in his face that Tim took as a win.

“Yes sure, go eat your pizza.” Tim threw the slices in the microwave and gave a thumbs up.

\------

Sasha was very direct and did not do things out of the blue.

Jon was stressed. Elias had come down to berate him for something that had no correlation to the Archives, because Jon was doing better than Gertrude ever had and he was very annoyed. He wanted to sit in the cabinet in document storage and scream, but he was trying to keep it together better. His emotions had been all over the place, making him cry in front of his assistants and such, very embarrassing.

He stopped at a box and saw that all of the statements were out of order and completely different subjects. He wanted to tear his hair out. His frustration must have shown because he heard Sasha behind him ask if he was alright.

“This place is such a disorganized mess. How does one work here for thirty or so years and do this terribly?” Jon set down the box before he felt the urge to throw it. 

Sasha gave a huffed laugh, “yeah that’s for sure. It really is awful down here.”

Jon tries to laugh with her, but there is so much work he's not sure that he can do it all in one lifetime, even if he sometimes neglects personal needs. 

“Do you want a hug Jon?” Sasha asks directly. Jon blinked, taken aback slightly. He hadn’t expected it, but maybe he should have. With Tim and Martin, it was only so much time before Sasha also decided to mother him. He ponders for a second, and then he lets his curiosity take over. Jon wondered how Sasha gave hugs.

Jon nodded, awkwardly opening his arms. She grins and wraps her arms around him. She was taller than him, six foot in heels. He sighed. Her hugs weren’t crushing or anything but they were pleasant. Comforting in a different way. After a few seconds she let go of him and he gave a tentative small smile.

Sasha smiled, “Hugs for the archivist.”

Jon groaned.

“I’m going to get Tim to print that out on shirts.”

“No, that's horrible and against dress code.”

Sasha looked away as if she hadn’t heard him, “Actually I don’t think it is!”

Jon groaned, but his stress was gone for a while. Sasha grinned, “We can all have matching ones and you get one that says Archivist.”

“Yes hugs for me on the back.” he went back sarcastically, setting a few files where he was trying to make a new category.

Sasha gasped, “Perfect idea Jon.”

The agonized noise Jon gave out made her laugh, “I’m off back to work boss don’t worry.”

\----------

There were statements that almost reminded Jon of what he was going through. The feeling of being buried. The thing was all of these people were scared, and yes, Jon had been scared too. Under the weight of the world was scary, but now it was a heady feeling. Heaviness was a comfort, small spaces that could only fit Jon and nothing else that could terrorize him. 

He felt bad for those people of course. But he also realized that he could very well cause these fears… That man who harassed him. It was a lot. He didn’t vocalize his fears of becoming something from a statement, but he very much had it. 

It was one of the few nights he had gone back to his flat to hear knocking from his cave of blankets. He was feeling thoroughly tired and did not want to get up. 

The knocking did not stop. So he got up with a grudging angry moan, he opened the door, halfway ready to use that weird choking thing on whomever was aggressively pounding on his door.

There were two men holding a coffin. They were wearing something that looked like delivery uniforms. They looked almost identical. 

“Delivery for Jonathan Sims. Sign here.” they were already coming into his flat to place it in his barren sitting room. He was a little glad he didn’t have too many things. 

“What? Why-” he was cut off by the delivery men shoving acceptance forms in his face to sign. Frankly he was too tired to deal with it, so he signed. Curiosity would eat him up when he wasn’t dead on his feet. 

\---------

Jon stared at the coffin, wondering briefly if it was going to kill him. It was a saturday and he was not due to be at work, so no one will be looking for him if he did die by coffin. Still he stared at the key pondering his chances. The idea of going in was slightly appealing, because curiosity was a horrible cloying thing.

His resolve to keep it locked slowly fizzled away the longer the day went on. He thought about going into work just to do something. He usually did go to work even on weekends, and nights. He could see why this was a bit troubling to his assistants. 

Finally he decided, what the hell. He was going to see what happened.

When he opened the coffin he tripped and fell in. 

It was dark.

The crushing darkness felt like home and he invited it.

\--------

When he realized how long he had stayed there he crawled out. He was covered in dirt and debris and was disoriented as he left the coffin. He caught his breath, feeling lightheaded and free. Everything felt clearer and safe.

Then he checked his phone and saw seventeen missed calls from Martin. Of and thirty from Tim and Sasha. What day was it?

Thursday. Shit.

He should call.

First he dialed Martin.

He chewed his lip as it rang once, twice and then Martin picked up.

“JON WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Martin sounded frantic. He could hear Tim and Sasha in the back yelling about hearing him.

“Buried alive in a coffin?” Was the closest he could get. “I- I’ll explain when I get to work.”

“You are not coming into work-” Jon hung up and then laid on the ground for a minute. He would need to walk very fast. He didn’t bother changing, just shaking off when he left and praying that he looked less dead. 

Martin was pacing when Jon came in. He was hugged from all sides by his assistants. It was nice and he let himself decompress. The hug was just as good as the coffin. He let the crushing kindness come through, and then it was stopped by Sasha turning him around by his shoulder.

“Tell us everything.”

Jon didn’t know when to start but then he did, “Breekon and Hope delivered a coffin to my flat friday night.”

They all watched him, waiting for him to continue.

“I went to bed, woke up on saturday and I got curious. I unlocked it… And I fell inside. Then I stayed there, it was nice actually. I liked the pressure and it was quiet and calm. Then I realized that I missed this place.” And then he fidgeted with his hands, “And you three I suppose.”

This made them all smile, and Jon felt a bit accomplished.

“Then somehow I knew the way out. And here I am.”

The silence was deafening.

\--------

Jon noticed that the three of them hugged him more often. He wasn’t complaining, because even if they did, they still did work well. Still he was curious as to why. He had an inkling that it had to do with them not wanting him to disappear to be buried again.

It was nice to be wanted. 

“Hey boss! We are going out to lunch on Saturday, you coming?” Tim came from the doorway, which Jon had kept open, even if it let in the feelings of More. 

Jon thought about it before humming, “If you can get me the followup on hilltop house case by the end of today.” He gave a smile to assure Tim it was a joke. Tim laughed.

“Yeah yeah. Will do boss. We’re all meeting at that cafe Martin likes so much.”

“Ah ok. The one with the mural wall?”

“Ding ding! That's the one. I’ll have this done by the end of the day boss.” Tim leaves and Jon hums. Saturday would be interesting.

\-------

Tim and Sasha were sitting there and Martin waved. They waved back and he took a seat across from them. Jon had not yet shown up, but they held hope that he didn’t get buried again.

Martin’s jaw almost dropped when Jon got there. Tim elbowed him with a snicker and a grin. Jon had come with overalls over a green sweater. He looked so comfortable. His hair was up in a bun, a bit unprofessional. Martin could have dropped dead and been happy.

His crush was silly, he will admit. But Jon had been so nice lately, and he loved hugs, accepted them like they were the best thing in the world. Then he had to go and be cute too? Very unfair to Martin. 

Sasha laughed a little but then turned to wave at Jon. Jon looked around at the scenery and looked a bit uncomfy. He waved back as well. He sat at the last chair next to Martin, and they all ordered. Jon looked a little out of it. 

With one brave move Martin put an arm around the other man’s shoulders, “You ok?”

Jon blinked a few times and then smiled, very small. It was a nice smile, Martin thinks, they had been seeing it a lot lately. 

“Yes Martin. Uh, thank you.” Jon looked a bit better, more grounded as he talked. Having something keeping him was probably helping him.

Tim, Sasha, and him all had theories on what happened to Jon. It might have been a trauma response, needing grounding techniques. But then there was that guy who Jon seemed to have choked with his words alone. They never held this against him, Jon was torn up about the incident, terrified. They could all tell.

Whatever had changed him helped him grow though. Like a flower out of a grave he supposed. It was a bit morbid.

Jon hummed and soon the lunch came to an end. Tim grinned and suggested turning it into a day if everyone was down for it.

“We can get drinks later and catch a movie before! It’ll be fun, if nothing else we can go play games at mine. I have monopoly.”

Jon smiled, “I can wipe you out at rummy if you have cards.” It was such an old person game that Martin had to suppress a laugh. Sasha smiled and everything felt perfect, grounding.


End file.
